


It was only a matter of time

by Wordlesslywriting



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Flowers, Friends to Lovers, Getting to Know Each Other, Happy Ending, Hospitalization, Love Confessions, Love at First Sight, M/M, Red String of Fate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 07:31:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18774097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wordlesslywriting/pseuds/Wordlesslywriting
Summary: Soulmates, were real. Lance could see that, could understand how the world worked with it, and with the time on Earth he had Lance did his best to live the best route he could possibly create within that frame.





	It was only a matter of time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [liddie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/liddie/gifts).



> So, I signed up for my first flower exchange. And it had been fun. I couldn't decide on which flower to use so I ended up using all three of the options! Anemone, Purple crocus, Zinnia. As well, picking out: Love confession and Red string of fate as prompts. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy your gift liddie.

He woke up to the sound of his heart, it had been abruptly lulled into a short pause where his lungs had a hard time to choke out a full sigh. It had been uncomfortable, but not something entirely uncommon to start out his day. He stilled the instinctual fear that wanted to escape from his lips, he had trained himself for this when his body wanted to refuse itself from working properly. It had been bothersome, but Lance made sure to calm himself by getting a steady stream of air, as he opened his mouth, forcing his lungs to open and close on command. He had also carefully picked himself up to where his nightstand had his inhaler for these instances.

In a practiced motion and repetition he went on with his morning when he had regained control of his breathing. His alarm clock by then, had silently started to judge him at his sluggish pace as he dressed himself and went straight to the kitchen. His breakfast had been a short walk from the refrigerator to grabbing a milk carton and getting a small package of an instant oatmeal mixed before heating it up in the microwave.

And even though he couldn’t visibly see the clock from his room, he could still perfectly feel how it degraded him when it voiced out numerously, ticktock, ticktock. Running a hand through his hair he grabbed his usual small backpack that he would need later on the day. College after all, would never fail to always be a hectic part of his life.

The world’s flow of time didn’t stop for anyone. Lance had figured that out when he had been younger and had the time to contemplate about it during his visits to the various clinics or hospitals that his family took him to for further observations and studies. Given his poor health, it had become the first indication as well catalyst of what would frame the rest of his life would become. In a loose string of his family looking out for him, and he, himself rediscovering the world had to offer he had managed to secure an okay style and pace. It may have not been glamorous, however, it had been pleasant enough for himself in the long run as he appreciated what and who he had been granted with.

Even in the mornings when his body wanted to flap around and be wonky, Lance could still see the silver lining.

It gave him a prospective that liven up his day-to-day routines. That, and because he appreciated how much his body reminded him that he still had so much to do. Friends to laugh with, family to smile and, a future that could still bring him happiness.

 

 

 

Sometimes it went like this: his body would vibrate while the world around him would shudder during an exhale. He would feel as if he was virtually connected to the untouched surfaces that the universe had to offer while everyone else would be in a different element, unaware of what he could understand.

It could be suffocating. Other times, liberating for his own eyes and soul when he jumped through that sensation. It had often been a place and timing that Lance could never forget. And it had always been a part of him as he grew up. Just like breathing, the way the world worked had made sense. It had been another detail that helped him organize his brain while he stored that kind imagery while largely ignoring the strings that connected billions of people around the world.

(If he wanted to remain sane, that had been the price.)

Only a few selected had been blessed with the same sight as Lance.

And he unfortunately, had been in the same group where their life expectancy was cut shorter than the rest of the population of the world because of that ability. (He wasn’t bitter. His grandmother had helped him sort his emotions with her mother’s stories about living with that connection while he grew up.)

It didn’t completely dictate how he lived like how most believed it did; the color red was still harmless (if not a little romantic). And when he noticed some strings turn black, he had managed to keep it neutral in public. (The last time he cried in public was when he had been twelve when he saw half a pair die from a terrible car crash while an ambulance was carting off one body and the other fading.) The whole rules about soulmates had been a short compiled list. Something that came and brushed into his house when he had mentioned it when he had been younger.

The taste of that youth that came from new talents and sights had that kind of chain effect. Nothing worse than it could have been, but still sweet like the candy he loved to eat. It had turned into a balance act for him finding the right medium of self-control that had been necessary once his grandmother caught on to his tales about the strings no one else could see or playfully feel if he got close enough to hover against the warmness it produced. He couldn’t interfere with fate, Lance was just a seer of what the masses couldn’t. Nothing more, nothing less.

Not that it had stopped his curiosity when he first began to touch his own string that dragged on for many miles until he couldn’t see the end of it. It had been a fun little memory that he treasured then, to let his palms feel the warmth or to wrap his fingers around them when he woken up to nightmares. The string had always comforted him.

And it would always follow his every step.

 

 

 

It didn’t particularly matter that he couldn’t see the end of the string. He had lived through most of his adolescence without ever seeing his soulmate and survived from it.

Yes, he knew he had one, and he had wondered who they were and where they lived. But, Lance had also grown up to see that soulmates were more than romantic connections. They were your best friends, the people that helped to better oneself. He had witnessed some people achieve it, others dying before ever meeting them.

It had been a cycle of fate interwinding or blocking them. Like a puzzle the world only worked when someone had the patience to keep all the pieces and work for the ending picture. And for Lance, it had made him question his existence as much as why the creation of strings that tied strangers and friends alike was made in the first place.

It had always been a curious status quo of how the universe was filtered by. To bend souls together and form a new united formation. Nonetheless, when he couldn’t find an answer he liked he figured that all that philosophical thinking wouldn't mean an end to a life full of curiosities.

Life would always be an endless mystery, and he would have to accept that piece to a certain extent.

 

 

 

There had always been a layer that Lance could not remove, as hard as he tried, something had always been there from keeping it in escaping. Years had passed. People had moved on.

And yet. And yet—Lance could not fully go forward as easily as everyone else. Things had changed. The world had shifted as he grew older, but he had wondered if he gotten any wiser since then. Seasons had touched his limbs, the way college had molded and shifted his emotions. It seemed like the rain could drown him physically, but it would mean that Lance would feel clean in one form. He didn’t know why it felt so wrong to smile when his dreams said he was missing something.

It only seemed fitting that the layer of his sweater had covered some of his scars. Physically Lance could walk away from the scene, but if he really reached forward to the spot where his heart ached, he couldn’t run away from it. There was no place he could go to. And that, had been the most bittersweet part.

He wanted to escape something, anything that reframed him from moving forward. But, he was stuck. Misguided in ways that had sheltered him as much as it hindered his process in growth.

It had been due to the trials that had developed for his family to support him when he got like that. Desperately to conquer what he didn’t understand. To cope with an endurance like zinnias were known for. If there was any chance of him finding any solace, it would inquire a drastic intake of re-centering himself. Not that he would deny it when his eyes burned. Or when his legs felt weak after his trip from school to work.

That had made the trip to his family’s flower shop a bit hard to accomplish.

Not that it had completely stopped him from getting there. He had pushed his body with every step he took. He didn’t need that kind of negativity to slow him down, to corner whatever space he had left to for him reaching to his destination. Lance had lived for a purpose that shouldn’t have to be blemished for that kind coldness. He was above that. (Always had to be.)

He had managed to pass another crossing intersection when his backpack was lifted from another hand. Then, it tugged for him to turn around.

“You know, you’re supposed to call if you’re having a bad day.”

Lance didn’t waste anymore of his strength to choke out a laugh, even though he wanted to. However, he did lean on his sister as they crossed the street and headed for the shop where the AC was on high.

“I’m not that winded.” His huff didn’t illustrate his claim. Not that she could be surprised about how stubborn he could be when he wanted to push his limits since he moved out when he started college. “And besides, I promised Hunk that I would come over to finish the movie marathon we’ve started last week.”

“Yeah, well I’m pretty s—”

Veronica’s verbal response was cut short when their grandmother came into view as she shuffled in for a hello and to immediately dote on them both. As well, for reeling Lance to a chair because she was just that good when it came to taking in the smallest details nobody else could capture. That had been both a blessing and a nightmare when it came to her presence.

Not that Lance would ever outwardly admit it.

 

* * *

 

The purple crocus had been the first flowers that Lance eventually managed to water since he started his shift after his classes. It had been a slow weekend in the shop and a slower one in school. Something that he had thanked the universe in giving to him when he woke that day and walked to the shop. His grandmother had been in the back with Veronica helping her with some boxes and supplies being shuffled and rearranged for easier access. On cashier duty it provided not much hard labor and had been perfect for him when his lungs had been sensitive as of late.

It had been a late afternoon when he had finished watering the pot when he heard the door ring with a customer. Lance had put down the water canteen quickly as he cleaned up his apron. Instantly he brought out a smile as he greeted the stranger.

“Hello!”

The stranger echoed a hello back before shyly looking at the stock of flowers and small trees that they had recently put on stock. Half of Lance wanted to go back to his watering, but strangely, his heart had throbbed when he touched his string. The usual warmth that he had been used to had started to flip a few degrees where it had been reminiscent of getting closer to a hot cup of chocolate. Not entirely painful as if his bare hands were to touch the cup, but very close to resemble that heat anyways. Without trying to alarm the customer or his sister and grandmother if they ever caught his facial expression, Lance attempted to school in a neutral expression.

It still didn’t stop for one of his hands to unconsciously hover to where his string was as it burned hotter with every passing second. His hands become clammy at the same time his heart began to beat louder from his ears. Lance couldn’t even open his mouth without feeling the dryness consume his words. He had wanted to say something. Anything. But he couldn’t when he locked eyes to him.

Blinking, Lance’s lips twitched. A word did pop out, but he couldn’t have been sure as to what did come out from his mouth. Only that the world had gone silent. As if he lost all other of his senses but sight. The color red had been highlighted from his vision. His arm in particular, was pulsing brighter than any shade he had ever seen before he had been given the privilege to understand what the elusive string of fate had looked like.

It had been a beautiful emotion to be consumed by. A new beginning in his life that had been unlocked by fate’s decision. A surprise gift for Lance as the string that dangled from his finger began to hum when the stranger’s eyes widen a bit.

( _Did he have the same sight?_

_Did he understand why Lance wanted to scream in joy for finally finding what he had been looking for?_

_Or did he not see what Lance could hear from the universe when they locked eyes?_ )

It didn't matter. (But it did. It did!)

Without the filters that his reality usually kept on and only seeing their string (theirs) Lance had vaguely stepped closer. And closer.

Until—

Lance blinked and time went forward.

His name happened to be Takashi Shirogane, or Shiro as he preferred to be referred as.

He had been a nice guy, polite, a little unsure of himself when Lance shook hands with him. But, not ever unpleasant. If anything, he had been someone that Lance liked right away when he first saw him. (Without including one of the reasons as to why he had been intrigued by him.) He had made him laugh, had made him feel very welcomed and good about himself. Someone that could handle himself when he came into contact with his sister.

It had made sense why Veronica had been friends with him. Although, it had made Lance wonder why she had never talked about him or showed him around their shop before. Shiro had looked and acted like the type that was perfect to meet any parents, hell Lance had done his best to not drool when he was at proximity of him.

(But he knew that Veronica had seen the way his eyes glazed.)

Their first meeting went like that. With Veronica in the middle as she watched him fidget with an audience and Shiro being a polite funny guy. Overall, not a terrible day for meeting his soulmate.

 

 

 

His life didn’t dramatically change overnight since then. It couldn’t really when Lance still had the same job, and classes to go over as the hours didn’t clash outside from his discovery of meeting his soulmate. His alarm clock still judged him when he woke up too late and the movie marathons were still a weekly thing with Hunk.

It all remained the same.

It hadn’t been like the sun and moon stop rotating in the skies. Or that the world that he knew intimately had barbed into a new connotation and equilibrium that whisked him off his feet. Nothing had been completely altered. Veronica did come a little more often, but that had been a given since she had the time to come over to check on their grandmother or when she wanted to spend some quality time with him when it got to her head that they needed to bond again since her school was hours away from them. (Like five hours away to be exact.)

Nevertheless, it had been a pleasant revelation to speak to him and learn about all the little details of what made Shiro, Shiro. When they had first met, Lance had known that their friendship could still be very fragile. And he took it serious to maintain that honor of meeting with him at all.

It had been a gift from the universe that gave him his sight, and it had been a privilege when he met Shiro.

Like the Purple crocus, Lance would do his best to spread the cheer he had always had within himself, especially when he had been blessed with the family he had and the many friends he’d made so far in this life.

 

* * *

 

Lance did not want to walk over to the bakery. He really didn’t want to. He knew that the second that his foot would step inside that Veronica would have a shit-eating grin there waiting for him. She wasn’t smooth or sly at all. Over the lifetime that he had covered with his family, he knew that she was that type of sister that loved romance, even if she flat out denied it in public. Her match-maker skills were also not what he needed to compete with his free time.

He loved her, but Lance really didn’t need for her to start anything when everything had been going so well. She was a brilliant analyst and a great sister, but when it came to his love life, he was fine. Extremely so. Not that it made her any less tempted to start pulling him closer to the person that could catch his eye. (He had the many awkward failed first meeting stories to go over for any soul that wanted to hear them.

Hunk had been one of the main audiences that heard Lance wail about it.)

Yet, there he stood at the front of the bakery shop his best friend’s family owned. His casual clothes would have to do, given that he didn’t want to give his sister anymore ammo for getting him more awkward first meetings. Or worse, trying to set him up with one of her friends.

“Hi, Lance. Fancy meeting you.”

Lance didn’t get a chance to scream at his sister when Shiro waved at him.

 

 

 

They went to the movies, had gone to the aquarium that was recently opened and hell, Lance even went out to shop with Shiro at the local small markets that were open in Thursdays.

It had been a spin in his schedule that had made him rethink about his earlier assessments of his life not dramatically changing since their first chance of meeting. Because, in one corner it hadn’t been a whole new life that awaited for him. However, there had been elements when yes, Lance could say that a few months ago he had been in a different mindscape when compared to now. It hadn’t been that unmistakable that he had to reconsider where his life was going. Or where he wanted to take to.

It had been a very slow dance of Lance wondering how he ever gotten to the path he was walking on. His grandmother, the saint that she was, had been willing to sit around and chat about the colors he saw, or how warm it felt when Shiro had been close. Besides Hunk and Veronica, his grandmother had often been the first person where he relied on for that kind of pep talk. She had known the life his great grandmother lived, and the memories that had been passed on from her had been shared to him. It had been that kind of connection that could never be erased by the limits they lived on.

It had been why she had been the first to tell him that his heart was too open and fragile. That one day soon enough he would have to confront the fact that one day his time on earth would be done. And if he didn’t like where he was exactly, he was in charge of changing for the better or worse.

Obviously, she told him that in a nicer and a lot more complicated way when it came in metaphors that only poets wished they could come up with.

But the warning had been there. Pressing against the palms of his hands. Eagerly forecasting a brewing storm when he felt conflicted with his choices. He had liked what he had with Shiro now. It had been comfortable. Nice.

But did he really want to risk everything for a _what if_ that lived within the domain of his heart?

 

 

 

_His eyes blinked as he took in the background that had been bare white save a red string attached to his finger._

_Then he took a slow breath when a hand reached for his. Lance could have sworn that the other pair had resemble someone he knew before waking up._

 

 

 

The downside of his time getting cut up by the addition of Shiro was the formation of Hunk and his sister Veronica teaming up to embarrass him. Whether they were all present or not. They were just a duo that never should have become a thing in the first place because they knew every single embarrassing moment of his life. With Hunk being his best friend since they were little and Veronica being his closest sister. It only got worse was the fact that their interactions had made everyone else curious. And that had always led for his extended family and parents to involve themselves into his life.

Once everyone had the latest information for them to get on with their jokes and unhelpful advice family dinners and barbeques were never quite the same.

“Are you happy with yourself Veronica?” Lance had barely escaped the onslaught of his nephews and nieces making kissing noises whenever he passed them.

Her smug smirk said all that she had been feeling when she hugged him. “Always.”

 

 

 

The color white had not been one of his favorites while growing up. It had reminded him of his time spent inside hospitals and various doctor visits. Whether it meant talking to consultants or having his heart checked, it all went the same. Lance’s day would be ruined. His family would be worried if he accidentally got winded or god forbid, get a paper cut.

Visiting any medical place meant that his family would be on edge.

That had been why he had been very angry when he woke again to his chest barely working for him to take gulps of air. It had been hard to sit up right. But he had managed to text Hunk, who had lived in the same apartment complex and just one door away for these instances. He didn’t have to wait for long to feel his best friend helping him sit up. His limbs had become heavier, and when he opened his mouth to protest a visit to the emergency room, he knew it had been futile. His best friend wouldn’t ever jeopardize his life.

The next time he had been coherent enough to get his bearings he had been sitting in his room. As a long-term patient with his kind of condition, it had made the process of getting a room faster. It had its pros, but really Lance had been tired that he could memorize the lay out of the ward where he had been taken to. His neighbor had been another guy, who had his soulmate getting him his favorite berries from the cafeteria. He had smiled politely when Lance had been placed there hours ago.

Lance had forced out a smile to him, but they both had known how he felt about getting stuck in bed. He knew that he would be under watch for the rest of the day, and tomorrow because he had been known to have bad reactions when his lungs acted up.

He may have been able to sit upright for a while, but they all were aware that he couldn’t fully support himself if he wanted to take a walk.

Lance ended up sulking for a good chunk of the afternoon before he joined a round of UNO with Allura and Lotor.

 

 

 

As Lance often believed, the sight of the red strings were lovely. The shades were often bright against the rain or shine of the ever constant changing weather. It had been naturally an image that became ingrained into his dreams as well.

It had been closing into a new season where the winds were getting icier, the cinnamon and pumpkin spices were getting popular again and his family were still coming and going to visit him when his lungs didn’t want to recover after the season changing. Another part that he hated that his body was weak to seasonal changes. Shiro had also been one his visitors when Veronica told him about it.

And while that had been a nice thought, Lance hadn’t liked how pale his skin had become, or how winded he became when he laughed a little louder or longer. For Shiro’s part his kindness had helped make the room a little brighter. A little more bearable.

He never told him about the bright red string that connected them.

(But it had been a lovely sight nonetheless when all else was turning duller against the string.)

 

 

 

“Do they usually last that long?”

Shiro’s face was soft against the sunlight from his window. Something about that image could have been romantic, that is if either of them had ever opted to flirt. But they didn’t. The coffee between them had been the instant kind from the grocery store down the block from Lance’s apartment. The table had been somewhat messy with a stack of homework from the days he missed school. He had been in the middle of highlighting his notes when he bit his lip. Trying to find an answer that was both accurate but still something that wouldn’t bring the whole atmosphere down by the reality of his life.

He set down his highlighter while grabbing his cup of coffee, “Eh, when I was younger the standard was roughly two to three weeks. Nothing too terrible if I kept calm and didn’t over it.”

This time, it had lasted a month and a half. Sitting there, e-mailing most of his work and his grandmother always sitting beside him as she told him old stories of how her parents met. A routine well-established. It hadn’t been that horrible. He had worse the previous year when he had to stay at the ward for three months. (Almost pushing into the fourth.)

He doesn’t tell Shiro that. Not when he caught at how concerned he had looked the way Lance’s hands shook a little when he picked up his cup and brought it to his lips. The bitter taste from it had only increased his desire to flip the conversation.

He didn’t know how he looked to Shiro, but he had mustered a nonchalant smile. “You get used to it. It’s not all that bad. I mean…” one hand opened to gesture randomly into the air. “I mean I met some pretty nice people at the ward where I’m usually placed.”

There had been many fond memories there when he met both international and out-of-state people from time to time. To have a support system made there where he was understood about the red string they saw circulating the globe. Obviously there had been trips when he felt like utter shit, but for the most part, Lance had often felt connected with the universe. An intimacy that few ever got to experience. And he had been one of the rare to see and feel it first hand.

For the price of a shorten lifespan, Lance could agree to its terms when the view was breathtaking.

 

 

 

He had been browsing around the flower shop and helping with stock when the bell rang. As he adjusted his name tag and shouted a welcome he had been semi shocked to find Shiro nervously calling his name.

That had been odd. He never had an issue with being around him before. It had always been filled with easy laughter and self-assured strides. As he walked closer he noted the clothes Shiro had been sporting; nice slacks, a clean crisp button shirt and a tie that complemented his complexion and eyes. Again, it made Lance wonder about his sudden appearance.

“Wow. Going to a nice party or date?”

Shiro’s cheeks were tinted with a soft pink color. “Sort of.” One hand raised to swipe off a strand of hair that fell down his forehead. “I was hoping to get a custom bouquet to convey a message for someone.”

Lance walked over to the counter where there was a book for ideas. “Okay. What kind of message are you trying to say.”

As he motioned for Shiro to look over the book and helping him flip through it he had been trying his best to keep his voice even. At the same time, wondering who and what kind of person had managed to reduce Shiro into a stuttering mess. He obviously had to be in love, with how usually calm Shiro was known and to be now shaking with nerves. Like a teenager that was trying to ask out their crush to the prom.

As expected, Shiro’s cheeks redden as he picked out his words carefully. Narrating the thing about knowing someone that caught his eye the first time he saw them. How he had been friends with them for only a couple of months but feeling as if he had known them forever. Like a tattoo that had been invisible on his skin and now, had surged with lines of light each time he thought of them. They ended up with a bouquet that had filled with mostly purple crocus, zinnia and—

“Anemone?” One of his hands lifted them up to his chest, as he examined the flowers. “Any particular reason why you want to use them?”

They weren't the ideal flowers for some people (especially considering that some of their colors for that flower were used for funerals).

Shiro smiled gently at him. “I read they were good to use to express for wishing them for good health.”

“Oh.” He cleared his throat. He wasn't wrong. “Okay.”

He went back to putting them into the bouquet as he wrapped them together with practiced hands. The ribbon he used had been a soft neutral color given that he didn't know yet the name of Shiro’s crush. Right as he finished he watched how Shiro’s face lit up when he presented the final product.

While passing it to Shiro, he ignored the way his skin burned at contact. “Here you go. I hope they like it.”

He knows he did. It had been an interesting combination to witness and make. As he had been about to let go Shiro leaned his body over the counter to let his hands stay close to his.

“Do you?”

He blinked back.

“Do I what?”

His voice had been a little shaky but Lance could tell that Shiro was being serious as he was... Dare he say, hopeful? “Do you like them?”

He stared at the flowers and then how close they were.

“Yeah, they're beautiful.”

There had been a sigh of relief in Shiro’s part. Then ever so softly: “That’s great to hear, because, these are for you.”


End file.
